The Elusive White Monkey
by CrystallicSky
Summary: Chase Young hated to admit it, but for the love of all that was Evil, pop-culture mags had made an accurate quiz, and so had brought about the current situation, in which he himself was taking it. CHACK, ONE-SHOT Also, to my fans, important note inside!


**The Elusive White Monkey**

**By: CrystallicSky**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown, or any of the characters in it. **

**Warning(s): Mild cursing and gay, gay, gay, gay, gay-y gayness; you take issue with this, you say? Kiss my shiny metal ass.**

Chase wasn't quite sure why he had decided to do so, but he had, and so here he was with a pen in his right hand and a popular culture magazine in his left.

At first, he'd scoffed at the silly personality quiz that had all of the young Xiaolin enthralled. He thought it was a childish waste of time and nothing more. However, his interest was soon peaked by the fact that, when he compared what he knew of them with the results of the quiz, the descriptions fit _to a 't'_.

Omi was a Yellow Blowfish. _Yellow Blowfish are rare and are very unlikely to ever find another like them, a good thing as their personalities are conflicting in any greater number than one. They are often full of themselves and occasionally put up something of a front, but are good at heart and can be some of the most childlike and sinless beings one can ever meet. If you're ever lucky enough to gain a Yellow Blowfish's friendship, you will always have their respect and they would even go so far as to die for you. They are known to be highly forgiving to the point of naivety. The Yellow Blowfish works best with the Golden Mountain Lion, but is adaptable and can adjust to virtually anyone should the occasion call for it. A Yellow Blowfish is not equipped to function romantically and is the only type of person that does not have a mate._

Next was Kimiko, who was an Orange Sparrow. _The Orange Sparrow is most often a female (though male Sparrows are not unheard of), generally fun-loving, but every so often become a mother-figure in addition. They are intelligent and friendly, if sometimes a bit standoffish and surly, but will only become truly angry when insulted or underestimated. As a friend, Orange Sparrows tend to favor male friends with tough love, showing their sincere affection by kicking their butts into shape. Though she (or perhaps he) is a bit rough around the edges she (or he) will instantly jump to defend her (or his) companions with all the vivacity of a mother defending her offspring, and the Orange Sparrow's loyalty is unfailing. Orange Sparrows work best with Chestnut Mustangs and their most suitable romantic match is the Grey Weasel._

Of course, the Chestnut Mustang himself, Clay. _Kind and occasionally stuck in their ways, Chestnut Mustangs are always a pillar of strength. They get along well with most others save those that cross them, but have a particular penchant for defending the weak or helpless. Well-balanced in hobbies and attitude, Chestnut Mustangs tend to make friends fairly easily and rarely come into conflict, but when they do, they are rock-steady and have hard minds to change, unwilling to budge on what they believe or who they believe. Loyalty to friends and family is deep-rooted, and they will not turn their backs on either for any reason. They have no preference towards working with others, but will be naturally inclined against cooperation with the darker ends of the personality spectrum. As a chivalrous creature by nature, a male Chestnut Mustang may have difficulty finding a romantic match among today's modern females, many of which are feminists that will take his politeness to the fairer sex as a threat to their independence, and so the best match for him is the Red Pony, who though fiery and independent, is understanding, and will not take offense to the Mustang's behavior._

And finally, Raimundo, who was – surprise, surprise –a Grey Weasel. _A common class of people, the Grey Weasel has a tendency toward pride and arrogance, but knows when to get over himself or herself in a tight situation. Their egos can be easily bruised, and so they often compensate with much bravado and noise to hide their insecurities and save face. Grey Weasels are predisposed to be good leaders, able to rally companions into one combined effort, and boost group confidence. But, they are not all seriousness, and can find humor (even if it's dark humor) in all places. Grey Weasels are highly amorous and are prone to frequent flirting, but this flirting will often cease once in a committed relationship. Loyalty may waver from time to time due to temptation or rejection, but any traitorous actions usually become nothing more than momentary lapses in judgment. Grey Weasels will work best with those that are gullible or can be easily-manipulated as they enjoy being listened to without question; blind obedience fluffs the fur of their ego-monster. Romantic match is the Orange Sparrow._

Chase Young hated to admit it, but for the love of all that was Evil, pop-culture mags had made an accurate quiz, and so had brought about the current situation, in which he himself was taking it.

As an immortal, he was often prone to bursts of inactivity, in which he had absolutely _nothing_ to do and succumbed to boredom.

It was during those bursts that he tried all sorts of new or unconventional things to relieve that boredom. Just a year or two ago, in fact, he had mastered the internet, and while he found it an acceptable source of information and amusement, he never saw the need to use it as modern humans did, like a crutch.

But, he told himself as he checked off little boxes and calculated his final score, it was only a combination of inactivity and curiosity that led him to this; the only reason _he_ of all people was wasting his time with this childish thing.

Ah, and here was his answer now: the Green Dragon.

Why wasn't he surprised?

_The Green Dragon is a rare individual indeed, perhaps even more so than the Yellow Blowfish, and are unlikely to occur any more than once in a millennium. Green Dragons are ruthless individuals who rarely give care to any other than themselves and are often driven towards greed, going to any lengths necessary to obtain what they want and damn the expense and people stepped on. While aggressive, however, they are not soulless, and are able to experience much the same emotions as any other, though their feelings and sentiments will always carry the hint of their darkness and greed. Naturally, they are possessive of both their things and companions. Green Dragons shall do anything in their power to keep their perceived possessions from either being taken or, if human, from straying on their own. Green Dragons are loath to express emotion openly. They try to maintain their reputation by expressing themselves through silent action while their words and outward appearance will remain unchanged. Green Dragons are mostly loners, and will refuse to cooperate with others unless absolutely necessary. When it **does** become so, however, the Green Dragon will be most inclined to work with one of its kindred spirits of rarity, either the Black Mink or the Yellow Blowfish. While lust is frequent, true romance is only slightly more possible in this instance than spontaneous combustion, and the Green Dragon will **only** ever be compatible with one type of person: the White Monkey. All others attempting to fill that position will fail miserably and the relationship will invariably end in disaster._

Once more, Chase was feeling in a growly mood, because goddamn, it had him pegged!

That romance thing, he supposed, was what got to him the most; probably because he'd learned all that the hard way over his long, long lifespan and here was an insignificant little magazine that said it as if were the most obvious thing ever.

Where the hell was _his_ White Monkey, anyway? Surely he'd have met at least _one_ in 1500 years!

Out of a very human need to _know_, he flipped a page or two to find the description of his supposed one and only compatible mate – the White Monkey – and began reading.

_The White Monkey is often hard to find, as it is fairly often mistaken for the Slate Mouse. White Monkeys are fun-loving and excitable if occasionally arrogant, greedy, and proud. Though they often find themselves isolated due to their mannerisms, they will continuously seek out at least the **presence** of other people in the drive to avoid loneliness. Physical contact of any kind is craved. Intelligence and creativity is a staple in the White Monkey, coupled with an eccentric and dramatic nature, but the individual in question is prone to screw-ups and blond-moments galore, giving the very **wrong** impression of stupidity to all of the White Monkey's acquaintances. This personality type can be stubborn, but will always act in favor of protecting his or her ego, though shielding themselves from bodily harm will never take second priority to said ego. Their **true** friendship is difficult to gain, but if you ever manage to get past a White Monkey's mental and emotional barriers, you will be held in the highest of respects and honored beyond all logical reason, lavished with frequent affection and praise. Such individuals have plenty of ambition and potential but lack focus, and so tend to work best with mentor-figures that can guide their attention in the proper direction. The White Monkey is actually romantically compatible with just about every personality-type, but tends to aim high, and will most want the best person he or she can get. This 'best person' will vary from individual to individual, depending solely on the various types of people met in that particular lifetime; however, in a **supremely** ideal situation, a White Monkey will encounter its most suitable mate, the Green Dragon. The Green Dragon's cold, serious attitude will nicely complement the White Monkey's lively and impulsive nature, will encourage the former to loosen up, and the latter to calm down to an extent, thereby creating a beneficial change for both. On the other hand, it is exceedingly rare that these two ever meet, and even when it **does** occur, the Green Dragon will often find the affectionate advances agitating and push the individual offering them away, resulting in the .0003 percent chance that a relationship will form. In such a case, the White Monkey will be most inclined to simply settle for anyone he or she can get._

Chase was floored.

Not because of how easily it seemed a White Monkey would give up on their perfect match, not because of the incredibly low probability of ever getting into a relationship with said match, not even because of it's compatibility with apparently _every_ personality type!

Chase was floored because he knew a White Monkey, by both name and face.

No…no, it was impossible. _He_ couldn't be…no, no, it was completely inconceivable that _he_ was…it couldn't be _him_…

There was no _way_ that Jack Spicer was compatible with him. Just…_no_.

Now, normally, he would have labeled this as simply another infantile personality quiz that had mucked up the reality of things by trying to oversimplify it and disregard these results, perhaps burn the magazine altogether, before moving on with his life. However…it had been so _accurate_ for all the others, the Xiaolin monks that had taken it, and _what if_ Spicer truly _was_ his only chance at romantic happiness?

He knew it was a stupid 'what-if', but that infuriating need to _know_ once more welled up within him, and with a snarl, he tossed the magazine in his hand to the nearby fireplace and teleported to go find out for himself.

...

When Chase eventually found the boy, Jack had been tinkering with his machines.

He had never had the thought to consider the goth as a potential lover before (and why would he have? Such an immature, juvenile thing _couldn't_ be a sexual creature in any way). Naturally, then, it was a bit startling to begin thinking of him so now, and even stranger that what he imagined was actually _appealing_.

White fingers twined around wires of various colors in the warlord's mind became white fingers twined around _hair_ and of only _one_ shade, a very ,very dark green.

Square hands with calloused fingers holding tools steady changed to hands holding tightly enough to tan shoulders for the short, trimmed fingernails to draw blood.

A sharp yelp of pain when a jolt of electricity crackled unexpectedly at the goth's hand and then a whimpering moan as he took the singed flesh into his mouth morphed into a yelp of slight pain but more discomfort at an unexpected feeling followed by a whimpering moan as the young albino became accustomed to it, wanting to beg for more but not all that sure he was allowed.

It continued on and on, almost against the warlord's will as his mind played out various fantasies based on whatever completely nonsexual act the teenager happened to be engaging in at the moment: long arms wrapping around his neck, surprisingly strong legs around his waist, a pretty mouth with soft lips on various parts of his body, fire-red hair damp and plastered to the youth's forehead, a lithe body of paper-white skin drenched with sweat, bruised, bitten, and lain helplessly across his sheets, and of course, imagining those oil stains on the boy's hands and cheeks as another liquid entirely.

Quite frankly, Spicer was _alluring_ in this new sexual light.

Why had he not come to this revelation any earlier?

Breaking away from this lust-driven thought-pattern, he forced himself to observe the young genius casually, using his _head_ to think instead of what had been driving the previous considerations.

In truth…had Spicer ever been _that_ bad?

Sure, a bit clingy, a little annoying, but overall, he was fairly…tolerable.

In fact, now that he thought on it, it might even be _pleasant_ to actually accept those eccentric attentions Jack always tried to foist on him, and of course, doing so would ensure the presence of that sexy, young thing in his bed, which had just been established as a definite _want_.

Besides, he need not make any commitments, and perhaps just…test the boy out for a while, a trial period of sorts, and _then_ make a more informed decision about what place Jack would or would not be given.

Stepping forward, Chase spoke firmly, "Spicer."

As expected, a shrill, feminine screech sounded from the startled and frightened youth, and his shock caused him to allow a wrench to clatter heavily to the floor before his sub par albinistic eyesight managed to pick out the figure still partially concealed in the shadows of his lab.

"Chase," he breathed, hand going to his chest as if to slow the rapid beating of his heart, "oh, jeez, you scared the hell out of me."

"Good to know I can," the warlord said with a smirk.

There was a brief silence as the goth warily eyed his evil hero at the nearly amiable tone, but it was soon broken as he awkwardly attempted to initiate conversation. "So…um…what brings you to The Lair, Chase? Do you…need me for something?"

The man did not miss the incredibly hopeful voice with which the last bit was inquired, and he spared a vague thought to _how_ this White Monkey could still hope after being so long denied.

Instead of voicing this, he said, "As a matter of fact, I _do_ need you for something." Elation and joy flooded the goth's expression, but before Jack could speak, Chase interrupted, "You see, Spicer, I have a theory, and you are essential in proving or disproving it."

"Oh, okay," the goth smiled gleefully, happy to be of help, "what's the theory, then?"

"My theory," he explained, tucking his arms at the small of his back reflexively, "is that in their exceedingly unnecessary lifespan, personality quizzes may have actually gotten their information correct for once."

An immediate sense of realization came over Jack (because what else could his idol be talking about but the newest, most accurate quiz featured everywhere from magazines, to blogs, to whole _books_), and he helplessly sputtered, "Y-you took that thing, too?! I mean, _I_ did it 'cause there was nothing on TV, but _you_-"

"What was your result, Spicer?" the man firmly demanded, not at all wanting to dance around the issue.

"I, uh, um…" it took a minute for the youth to recall what he had actually gotten through his shock, "Wh-White Monkey."

A very sadistic-looking smirk twisted Chase's handsome features into the exceedingly _evil_ sort of handsome that Jack rather fancied, and he practically purred, "Just as I suspected…"

Before Jack's brain could really process much of anything that was happening, Chase's mouth was on his.

A Green Dragon and a White Monkey had not kissed in _7,032 years_.

This simple touch of lips released _every_ passion and desire pent up over those numerous centuries in one fell swoop; a tingling feeling that was want, need, heat, and _rightness_ all at once sizzling through both of their veins like an electric current as no preamble was needed for the sudden appearance of tongue in the kiss and the fervent drive to grope and paw greedily at the other.

Shocked by this sensation, both men tore themselves away at once, panting harshly as that strange hungry feeling still buzzed mutedly through them. As gold and red met in an almost solemn stare, they both understood immediately.

They _needed_ each other. _Now_.

Heylin magic crackled through the air and the ancient warrior and the gothic genius were gone, soon reappearing miles and miles away on the sheets of Chase's bed.

Later would be the time to figure things out. Later would be the time for explaining and decisions. Later, there would be a need for words and talking.

For now, words and talking were foolish, unnecessary things that would only get in the way of passion.

The Green Dragon had finally captured _his_ elusive White Monkey, and now that he had, he got the _very_ strong feeling that he wouldn't be letting him go any time soon…

**A/N: So, anywho, I was bored, and this idea floated through my brain unexpectedly, and I decided, 'Hey, I could write that!' And thus I did.**

**I tried to make the personality quiz results as accurate as possible, but if they're a little off, please don't be too offended: I tried.**

**In addition, I would like to give much props to Silvarbelle, the Queen of All-Things-Chack, with whom I have recently been more personally acquainted after a year or two of silent stalking, for reading this over and giving me tips and such; I cannot thank her enough. :)**

_**Oh, and as a side note, I'm deeply considering holding a fan-art/fan-fiction contest thing-a-ma-bob (maybe not an actual contest-contest, like someone'll win, but I can't think of another word for it) based on anything and everything I've ever written. I have a journal about it on my deviantART homepage, if you're interested and want to know a little bit more about it. You need not have a deviantART account to participate, but I ask that if you have something done for it posted on another site that you send me a link to it so that even though its not on deviantART, I can still share it with the people there. :) In case you're not sure how to find my account over there, its www. crystallicsky. deviantart. com, just remove the spaces.**_

**Regardless, I hope this is both read and enjoyed by many! :D  
**


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